


Three Nights in L.A.

by Rhiannon87



Series: Some Sort of Crazy [2]
Category: Uncharted
Genre: Dating, F/M, Long-Distance Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6362950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon87/pseuds/Rhiannon87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Nate's world, planning ahead is something that other people do, and Elena gets a surprise weekend with her favorite tomb robber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Nights in L.A.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the revised/rewritten version of Four Nights in L.A.. The original can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/406487%22).

_Nathan Drake: r u in la?_

_Message received 07:31 p.m._

 

_Elena Fisher: Yes. Why?_

_Message sent 07:35 p.m._

 

_Nathan Drake: jst lnded at lax. adrss?_

_Message received 07:36 p.m._

 

_Elena Fisher: I'm at work, Nate._

_Message sent: 07:37 p.m._

 

_Nathan Drake: ths late?_

_Message received: 07:37 p.m._

 

_Nathan Drake: whre is wrk?_

_Message received: 07:40 p.m._

 

_Elena Fisher: At the studio._

_Message sent: 07:43 p.m._

 

_Nathan Drake: gting cab. mt u thr?_

_Message received: 07:44 p.m._

 

_Nathan Drake: will by u dnr. ur chce._

_Message received: 07:46 p.m._

 

_Elena Fisher: Fine. Call me when you get here._

_Message sent: 07:50 p.m._

 

*

“Your texting skills are appalling” was the first thing out of Elena's mouth when she saw Nate lounging against the mailbox outside the studio.

He just grinned. “Nice to see you, too,” he said and picked up his duffel bag.

Elena can't help her own smile in response. Nate's infectious like that. Or obnoxious. Same difference, really. She slowed a bit as she got closer, uncertain about the protocol here. They'd spent a few days running around the jungle courting death, then they spent the next three weeks in various hotels across Panama having quite a lot of really good sex. And then she came back to L.A. and he went back to... wherever he went when he wasn't searching for buried treasure, and they'd promised to keep in touch.

She'd been more than a little surprised when the first e-mail showed up two days after they'd parted ways. He didn't seem like the type to follow through on that sort of thing. They'd been writing back and forth for the past month, random jokes or stories or complaints. They talked about her work more than his--understandable, given the legal grey area Nate had made his home in.

None of that, however, gave Elena any idea as to how she was supposed to greet him.

Nate, fortunately, didn't seem to have any hesitance. He slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss on the cheek. “So! Where to?” he asked, his arm remaining in place as they walked towards the parking lot.

“AJ's,” she said. “It's a steakhouse about half a mile from here.”

He beamed at her, the thought of steak apparently filling him with glee, then he glanced down at himself and frowned. “This okay?” he asked, gesturing at the jeans and dark blue t-shirt he's wearing. “I can always change in the backseat. Efficient and visually appealing.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “That won't be necessary.”

“But it'd be fun.” Nate's definition of fun was a rather strange one-- though she already knew that. She just shook her head as she fished her keys out of her purse. “Ooooh, did you buy a new car with your share?” he asks.

She snorted. “Let's see, between paying for the boat-- turns out pirates _aren't_ covered by insurance-- the camera, the travel expenses, and reimbursing myself for the lost pay...” She hit the button to unlock her car, the same green sedan she'd had for the last three years. “No. No convertible.”

Nate at least had the decency to look chagrined as he walked around to the passenger seat. “Sorry about that.”

Elena waved a hand dismissively and tossed her purse in the backseat. “It wasn't _directly_ your fault.”

He threw his duffel in the back and didn't quite crush her bag with it. “I assume your driving skills are better when there are actual roads?”

“Hey! I'm not the one who drove us off a cliff.”

*

She was a little surprised at how easy things were between them. They’d been comfortable with each other back in Panama, but that whole situation had been so far from normal she couldn’t really use it as a reliable gauge. She didn’t really know what Nate was like when he wasn't in the midst of adventure or crime. But he asked what she’d been working on so late before she even started the car, and after that, it felt perfectly familiar, like they last saw each other yesterday, instead of over a month ago.

There was plenty to talk about on the drive and over dinner. Elena told him about her work—Nate had seen quite a few more episodes of her show than she’d expected—and he told her stories about his past adventures. If she hadn’t been on that island with him, she’d think he was making most of it up, trying too hard to impress her. Since she was, though, she knew that Nate was probably glossing over some of the most insane parts.

She asked why he came to L.A., and he shrugged and said he wanted to see her. The answer wasn't a surprise. Elena hadn't known him long, but she still knew he was clinically incapable of planning ahead. He wanted to see her, so he hopped on a plane.

Flattering, but it didn't bode well for the long term.

They lingered over their drinks-- well, Nate's drink, anyway, since Elena was driving-- and Nate had been rubbing his foot against Elena's calf for the last few minutes. “Is this our first date?” he asked abruptly, as though the thought's just occurred to him.

“Uh... I guess so.”

He chuckled. “I guess we did things a bit out of order then.”

“The near-death experiences typically do come somewhat later,” she agreed.

Nate laughed and drained his glass. “Wanna get out of here?” he asked, smirking, and yeah, she really did.

*

_Nathan Drake: whre is cfee?_

_Message received: 08:44_

 

_Nathan Drake: and whr r u?_

_Message received: 08:45_

 

_Elena Fisher: Thanks._

_Message sent: 08:47_

 

_Nathan Drake: cfee sml bt no cofee. trtre._

_Message received: 08:48_

 

_Nathan Drake: did u mke cfee?_

_Message received: 08:50_

 

_Nathan Drake: did u drnk all the cfee?_

_Message received: 08:50_

 

_Elena Fisher: I admit nothing._

_Message sent: 08:52_

 

_Nathan Drake: U DRANK A POT OF COFFEE AND LEFT NONE 4 ME_

_Message received: 08:54_

 

_Elena Fisher: It brews one cup at a time._

_Message sent: 08:54_

 

_Nathan Drake: NONE. LEFT._

_Message received: 08:55_

 

_Elena Fisher: The fact that you know how to spell but choose not to is just sad._

_Message sent: 08:56_

 

_Nathan Drake: coffee?_

_Message received: 08:57_

 

_Elena Fisher: Cabinet above the sink._

_Message sent: 08:58_

 

_Nathan Drake: coffeeeeeeeeeee_

_Message received: 09:04_

 

_*_

She picked up Thai food on the way home and tried not to think about how weird it was to have Nate in her apartment. He’d promised to find a way to entertain himself that didn’t involve breaking any laws. Keeping him busy would have been much easier if he hadn’t flown in on a Thursday night, but, well. Planning.

Nate was damp and barefoot when she got home, looking like he just got out of the shower. It was a good look on him. “Hi honey, how was work?” he mock-simpered, and Elena threw the balled-up receipt at his head. He laughed and started pulling out plates.

“What'd you do with your day?” she eventually asked when they're seated side-by-side on her couch, her coffee table covered in open containers of rice and vegetables.

He shrugged. “Went for a walk, came back here and read a book, took a nap. Nothing too exciting.”

“Oh, that must’ve been hard for you,” she teased and leaned over to steal a piece of chicken from his plate.

Nate half-heartedly tried to steal it back. “I don’t mind spending a few days without explosions and gunfire,” he replied. “Besides, I knew I was gonna see you tonight. Made the day go by pretty quick.”

She wasn't quite sure what to say to that. Like his admission that he came to California on a whim to see her, it was flattering, but… But she couldn’t quite take him at his word. The whole thing was complicated and messy and she didn’t really want to get into it right now, with him or inside her own head.

“Mm.” She nodded and took a drink to avoid having to say anything else.

“Oh!” Nate set his plate on the table and pulled a folded scrap of paper out of his back pocket. “And I got you a present.”

Elena arched an eyebrow. “A present?”

“Well. Less a present and more paying off a debt.” He shrugged. “I did say I owed you another story.”

She sighed. “Look, I appreciate the thought, but my producer was _very_ clear about working with you again. Her exact words were 'hell no, we are--'”

“No, no, this wouldn't be with me,” Nate said quickly. “It's just a-- well, a number.” He grinned, twirling the paper between finger and thumb. “You hear about the Coptic monastery ruins they found south of Alexandria?”

“Yeah, but it's all locked down, last I heard.” Elena glanced at the paper.

“Well.” Nate dragged the word out, clearly enjoying this. “I just so happen to know the assistant to the lead archeologist, and I might have put in a good word for you to do a special episode on the site. Several good words, actually. So if you were to call in the next week...”

Elena was mentally already halfway through the pitch she'd to give to her producers. An exclusive archeological dig was perfect; exactly what she needed to get back in their good graces. And it had been ages since she'd had the chance to go to Egypt. “Nate, thank you,” she said, reaching for the paper. He leaned away and held it out of her reach. She glared and grabbed for it again; he leaned back further. “Nate,” she said in warning.

Nate just grinned at her, eyes sparkling with mischief, and held the paper out over the arm of the couch. “Say please.”

“I do not have to say please for a present,” she said and leaned over him to grab the paper. It was exactly what he wanted, and she knew it, but she didn't really mind.

He stretched back farther, she over-balanced and fell on top of him, and then the paper and the food were both forgotten for a while. Later, she tack the phone number to the corkboard over her desk while Nate put the leftovers away, and she told herself to stop thinking of this as normal.

*

It was raining when they woke up on Saturday, and that was all the reason they need to stay in bed until eleven. Lunch was leftovers, and Nate poked around her DVD collection until he finds her Indiana Jones trilogy and declared that they were having a marathon. They settled in on the couch, and Nate critique the accuracy of the films and Indy's adventuring form; Elena threw popcorn at him when he started talking through the best parts.

They went out for dinner after the movies. Nate got a few texts while they were eating, and he smiled and lied when Elena asked what they're about. Nothing, he said, unable to meet her eyes, nothing important, and Elena just dropped it. It was probably better if she didn't know. Plausible deniability and all that.

“How long were you planning on staying?” Elena asked as they strolled out to her car.

Nate shrugged and glanced down at her. “I dunno,” he said. “You kicking me out?”

“No.” She leaned against him and wrapped her arm around his. “Just wondering if I should call in sick on Monday.”

He laughed. “I'm such a bad influence on you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Nate pulled his arm free as they reached her car. “Ask me tomorrow,” he says.

Elena never got the chance. She woke up entirely too early the following morning to the sound of Nate stealthily trying to pack his bag. “Were you at least gonna leave a note?” she asked with a surprising amount of venom for how sleepy she still felt.

Nate looked up, wide-eyed and startled. “No, I wasn't-- I mean, I was gonna wake you before I left,” he half-whispered. “Just wanted to let you sleep.”

When he lies, it's all over his face, and Elena was pretty sure he's not lying now. She sighed and climbed out of bed. “I'll drive you to the airport,” she said.

“I can call a cab--”

“Nate. It's fine.” She started pulling clothes out of her dresser and glanced over at him. “When does your flight leave?”

“I don't know. I'll have to see when the next flight to-- when the next flight is once I get there.”

Elena sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “Go make coffee,” she said. “I'm gonna take a shower.”

Breakfast and the drive to the airport were largely silent, awkward affairs, mostly because Nate wouldn't tell her where he was going or why or with who. It wasn't really any of her business, she supposed; not like she had any claim on him. Still, the evasiveness was annoying.

She pulled into the temporary parking at the terminal and put the car in park. “Thanks,” Nate said. He glanced at her and hesitated for a second, then leaned in to give her a kiss.

Elena put her hand to his cheek when he pulled back, holding him still so she could meet his eyes. “Be careful,” she said. “And call me when you can.”

Nate smiled. “I will.” Then he was gone, slipping out of the car and dashing off into the airport without a backwards wave. Elena stared after him for a moment, then shook her head and put the car in drive. Time to go home. She had work to do.


End file.
